It’s always funny when it’s happening to someone else. And in matters of the heart, it’s always melodramatic. But then it happened to me. And it was no longer funny or dramatic.
When I fell in love with my husband a couple of years ago, I was all rosy eyed. Like it happens with the first real love. Head over heels type. I had never thought I could love someone so much. It was like I had given him a piece of my heart. He could make me happy, sad, anxious, angry, anything. He could play with my heart. I had willfully given him the permission. And every gesture was love. And then we got married 😉
When we spoke of children, I always thought of them as people who would come in our way. In between us love birds. I always sneered at those who said that children brings the couple closer. Or that a child can melt your heart, can you make you do the impossible yada yada. I was cynical of those statements. I was too cool for those emotions.
And then, 4 months back, our darling daughter entered this world. And today, I feel silly for the cynicism. I feel all those things are, infact, understatements. There is no way I can describe my love for this tiny being. Someone who is always demanding, crying, throwing tantrums and yet, she has the biggest space in my heart. It’s like a piece of my heart is out there for the world to see and admire. So beautiful but so vulnerable. And so easy to hurt. No wonder women are such a huge pile of emotions and mush.